Recuperation and Regeneration (Buena Vista, CO)

DAY 5

I need to come up with a parallel set of lyrics for 'Tonight We are Young,' because at this age and after that travel, it would read 'Today We are Old.' 

Lovey went out for a long bicycle ride to remove his heebie-jeebies, while I caught up here with you. The second part of the day isn't pretty; I am sure the sheer exhaustion exasperated the drama. But I can say that it involved a very old, groovy saloon that had been around for 100 years - and had no menu.

"We serve steak, baked potatoes, and salad. Oh yeah - and bread." We're riding the rail at the bar and looked at each other with big grins, since I am notorious for studying menus for a lengthy amount of time and finally ordering whatever the waiter gets.

An anticipated phone call arrived at the wrong time with the wrong message, and things quickly went south.

As Forrest would say, "That's all I have to say about that."

(... for now)

DAY 6

I could immediately tell that this wasn't going to be a family vacation like I was used to when growing up: shopping, an occasional museum and noshing in the local restaurants. Just the fact that you were in a different locale made it all worthwhile.

However, he was on a mission today: Cottonwood Hot Springs, traveling up to the top of Cottonwood Pass, and another dip in the Hot Springs on the way back home (which is wherever you lay your head).

http://www.cottonwood-hot-springs.com/hotsprings/

The outside of the hot springs place was very unassuming; however, the colors were quite garish. When you entered, there was a quasi bodega for the long-term guests in the cabins on the property. On the way to the bathroom was a massage area with music and incense and one of those face-down zero gravity chairs. When I was reading the signage, an older man in vintage Indian garb with a long beard emerged and tauted his services.

“If you don’t feel better at the end there is no charge!” he smiles graciously, as if anyone is going to command a free massage in a beautiful place like this. 

There was a daily chart with the temperatures of the four different pools - 92 degrees to 105 (ouch!)

Except for the obnoxious fellow who loved to hear himself talk loudly (he finally left), it was an incredible experience. We even met a lovely couple from the area and imagined a house exchange together.

The lithium in the pools has left me exhilarated: or is it woozy? We leave and continue on the day’s journey.

"My three friends and I drove our bikes up to the top of this pass, and then we drew straws to see who was going to drive the truck down to meet us."

"Who drew the short straw?"

A sly grin crosses his face. "I can tell you it wasn't me. But one of the guys was hefty even back then and crashed on the way down - really hurt his back." 

And when you look around, there is nothing, and I mean NOTHING for miles.

"And I told him he was going to have get back on that bike or die out here. (Pause) OK - I didn't say that - but it was scary."

You Make Me Smile (You're better than the best)

The switchbacks are nothing different than western North Carolina, but we keep going farther into the clouds, and I am lightheaded now. My neck becomes one of those bobble heads, and I am feeling a bit peculiar.

I said hey - "What's going on?"

  

"You look green around the gills," and I haven't heard that since my mom said it right before my brother threw up on a Trailways bus in the late 1970's in Black Mountain, NC.

"I feel so goofy." I feel like I have several shots of Tequila or something else scary like Absinthe. "Wonky" is usually my word of choice, but I am way beyond that. 

"I feel so goofy," I keep repeating like a mantra, and we keep making those switchbacks and increasing in altitude.

When we finally get to the top, there is one other car at the crest with two people. Lovey gets out - and the wind is totally fierce. Between my foot, the goofiness and the wind - I choose to stay inside. When he comes back, he is gobsmacked by the intensity and ferocity of the weather.

We finally started to make the decline and of course my ears began to pop and everything got a bit better little by little. When we finally got to the bottom of the mountain, he stopped at an auto place to get the windshield wipers changed (a genteel, older lady came out and did it for us). Shortly thereafter, I lost it, and fortunately there was Big Gulp cup on the floor of the car available.

"It's the altitude - it affects some people like this. Are you sure you want to go back to the hot springs?" he asks hesitantly.

(I Hope You Had the Time of Your Life)

We are all the way out here in Colorado, and this is part of his history. I am not going to let a little altitude blow this. We soak again, and the queasiness returns. He has to help me to the changing room which smells like mold because it is so warm, so I just sit my goofy ass down.

"Put your head between your legs if you start to feel nauseated," he encourages. (But if I do that, I will keel right over on the concrete floor and bust something else.)

Afterwards, I lose it again in the parking lot... and it is like I have purged myself of all the negativity and toxins. For the first time in days, I have hope and actually feel much better~

And now we are here.

A bottle of Coke and a pack of Nabs and things are good in the gastro world.